When I Fall in Love(17)

She looked at Max again, this time with quiet fear in her expression. “Why?”

“Because he looks the type to get that comfortable, and my guess is that he’s been on a business trip for a few days and hasn’t washed those socks.”

This produced a tiny smile. “Really?”

“I hope not, but . . . And count your blessings because you could be sitting back there.”

She turned her head.

“Don’t look!”

She jumped. But cut her voice low. “Why not?”

“Because that poor mother will have everyone staring at her in about twenty minutes when we take off and the baby in her arms erupts into screaming.”

“Screaming.”

“And wailing. But here’s the good news. As long as you behave yourself, I promise not to take off my shoes or burst into tears. So I’d say, as far as flights go, you’re pretty blessed already.”

A second smile and this time it stuck. “You’re sort of funny, Mr. 9A.”

“Thank you, 9B. Now please tell me you brought some reading material because it’s a long flight to the beautiful islands of Hawaii.”

She winced.

“Okay, how about I let you do my crossword if you promise to leave me at least three blanks at the end?” He handed her his culinary magazine.

“Seriously?”

“I’m just that chivalrous.”

“Agreed.” She took the magazine and his proffered pen. “You don’t mind?”

“Well, I was going to offer to hold your hand, but it might get awkward and a little sweaty, so maybe the crossword is the right fit.”

She laughed then, something sweet, like the sound of a puck swishing into a goal, fast and bright and clean.

Again, Max had the sensation of falling, and he actually wrapped his hand around the arm of his chair.

“I’ll go with the crossword puzzle,” she said, still smiling.

“Good selection, ma’am.” He put his earbuds back in. Turned on his music to drown out the pounding of his heart. Good grief, he acted like he’d never spoken to a woman before.

Or maybe just not a woman he didn’t, deep down, want to get rid of.

And he’d handed her his crossword puzzle, effectively shutting off more conversation as she bent over and tried to fill in the blanks. He rolled a couple one-liners through his head, trying to figure out how to retrieve the moment.

Or maybe not. Because then what? He’d enjoy her company, maybe share some laughs, and they’d part ways.

Although, wasn’t that exactly what he needed? A no-strings, easy, six-hour friendship where he got to be the guy on a plane and nothing else?

He pulled out his earbuds. “Let’s start with one down.”



Grace just might make it all the way to Hawaii without getting sick. Thankfully, her Dramamine seemed to be holding because so far she’d only experienced one rush of heat, one thickening of her throat and urge to grab the vomit bag in her seat pocket. And that had been on the first flight, before she touched down at LAX.

She’d only nearly turned around and bought a ticket for home. Only sort of considered it.

Only played the painful conversation of defeat through her head five or six times before she finally found her gate.

If she never flew again, it would be too soon.

Until.

Until the man in the seat next to her turned out to be a gentleman. She’d seen him touring the gate area like a stalker and sized him up then. A big guy, with wide, sculpted shoulders, dark hair trimmed short—military style—and brown eyes that matched the hard-edged look. With his coral necklace, the casual black-and-white jersey shirt, and a pair of faded jeans, she pegged him as a soldier on leave, maybe even Special Forces, a man escaping his high-stress world. He walked with a cool, detached swagger that suggested he knew just how the girls looked at him.

Or maybe he reminded her of a cowboy, minus the boots because he wore flip-flops, appropriate for their destination.

She ignored him after that, trying to keep an eye out for Max Sharpe in case he might be taking the same flight she was across the ocean. She imagined he might have long hair, sport a beard like Owen did during hockey season. Although the season had ended for the Blue Ox a month ago.

She didn’t know whether to anticipate annoyance or expectation from Max. Didn’t want to consider it. The first thing she’d do when she arrived was let the poor guy off the hook. She didn’t need a babysitter. A tour guide.

She was twenty-five years old. She could travel to Hawaii and back by herself. Really.

“One down, c’mon.”

She looked over at 9A. He’d surprised her when he leaned forward, leaving behind the brooding soldier and joking with her about the passengers.